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Authors: Kate Pearce

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Riding the Line (10 page)

BOOK: Riding the Line
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‘Can they fix it?’
He grinned down at her. ‘Yeah, it will be ready to go in a couple of hours. It was the trailer brake controller. The guy even had one in stock, so it’s only going to cost me two hundred bucks, plus labor, of course.’
Robyn nodded wisely as if she knew what the hell he was talking about. Luckily he was too pleased to notice.
He glanced around the motel room. ‘Did you pack my stufftoo?’
She shrugged. ‘Some of it. I wasn’t sure whether we would be staying another night or not.’
‘We shouldn’t have to now, although I’ll have to take it easy on the road today.’ He moved around the room picking up odd garments Robyn had missed. ‘We’ve got time to go to the laundromat before the truck will be ready, so grab your stuff.’
‘The laundromat?’
He slung his bag over his shoulder. ‘Yeah. Now don’t tell me. You’ve never been to one of those either. Where were you raised, the moon?’
She looked him right in the eye. ‘Actually I have been to a laundromat before, who hasn’t?’ She picked up her small bag of clothes, sailed out of the door and hoped her lie was convincing. Dakota locked the door and moved past her, whistling some corny country song that reminded her of her last boyfriend, Damien, a dime-store cowboy if ever she’d seen one. A man who would never get his pointy cowboy boots dirty, unlike the real thing who strode beside her now.
‘Where’s the laundromat then?’
‘It’s just behind the motel, facing the street.’
Robyn hoisted her bag higher and tried to keep up. Why did he have to make everything look so effortless? He stopped and held open a door for her.
‘Ma’am.’
Robyn stepped into the steamy warm fabric-scented air of the laundromat. One wall consisted of washers, the other of driers, in between sat a row of chairs laid out for a game of musical chairs and a large folding table. The sound of tumbling washers and driers provided a constant background hum. Despite all the noise, there didn’t seem to be anyone about. Robyn noticed a door ajar at the rear of the shop with a crooked notice taped on to it reading MANAGER. She edged closer and heard the sound of snoring echo off the perspiring walls.
She dropped her bag on the floor and looked round expectantly. Where the hell was the person who was going to wash their clothes? Her gaze fell on Dakota who was watching her. His expression was taunting.
‘You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?’
‘I’m waiting for assistance. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?’
He pointed at a big red sign on the wall. ‘Can’t you read? It says “self service”. Do you even understand what that means?’ He opened the lids of two of the big washers and knelt on the floor to sort out his stack of clothes. ‘Let’s do one cold wash and one warm.’
Robyn edged closer to see exactly what he was doing. He seemed to be separating his clothes into different piles. Hell, she could do that. It wasn’t exactly rocket science, was it? She opened her bag and threw a garment out at random on the first pile.
‘Robyn, is that warm or cold wash?’
‘How am I supposed to know?’
He sighed. ‘Check the label.’
‘OK, Martha, oops I mean, Dakota.’
‘Wow, you’re so funny.’
‘I thought so.’ She squinted at the first label. It was one of the garments she’d escaped LA in. Did cashmere wash well? She tossed the black cardigan on to the warm-wash pile.
‘Why don’t you go get the laundry detergent?’
Robyn looked around again. ‘From where?’
‘From the dispenser on the wall.’ He sighed. ‘You’re such a liar; you’ve never done this before, have you?’
Robyn ignored him and sauntered across to the row of boxes attached to the wall. They held fabric softener, drier sheets and laundry detergent. She jiggled the first tray but nothing happened. Did she need coins? With a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Dakota was occupied, she grabbed the tray and tried to force it open.
‘Honey . . .’
‘Don’t call me that.’ Robyn gritted her teeth and pulled harder.
‘OK, “baby cakes”, you need quarters.’
She stomped back toward him. ‘“Baby cakes” isn’t happy. Why didn’t you tell me that before I broke my nail?’
‘Because you never listen anyway. Look in my pocket, there’s change in there.’
She knelt down beside him and slid her hand into his jeans pocket. His cock stirred against her seeking fingers.
‘That’s nice, honey, do it again.’
‘You are such a perv.’
She folded her fingers around some change and slowly withdrew her hand, trying to avoid the stark evidence of his arousal as it brushed the back of her hand. He caught her fingers and held them steady against his hardening flesh until she could feel the throb of his pulse.
His mouth feathered over her ear and she was suddenly aroused, her sex heating and softening with anticipation.
‘I thought we were doing laundry.’
‘We are.’ He bit down on her ear lobe and she almost melted into a puddle on the floor. ‘Go get the detergent.’
This time she managed to operate the dispenser and bring the lavender-smelling goop back to Dakota. He’d stuffed both piles of clothes in the machines and was waiting for her.
‘Thanks, baby cakes.’
‘Don’t call me that.’
He slammed down the lids, added more coins, fiddled with the dials and both machines started working. Robyn lifted the corner of one lid and stared at the revolving clothes. So much easier than hand washing stuffand hanging it over the shower rail to dry. When she got back, she’d have to find out if there was a laundromat near her tiny apartment. It had to be cheaper than sending stuffout.
Not that she had an apartment anymore if Damien was still there. Her hand crept to her throat. The bruises had long gone but she still felt the shame at having allowed a man to treat her like that. She wasn’t going anywhere near her stuffif he still hovered over it like a spider with its egg sac. She couldn’t allow him to hurt her again, emotionally or physically.
‘Robyn?’
She looked up to find Dakota in front of her, the teasing expression absent from his face. His hands came to rest on her shoulders.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yeah, I was just thinking about some unfinished business.’
‘Anything I can help you with?’
‘Not really.’
On impulse, and to drive the image of Damien’s sneering face from her mind, she kissed Dakota’s chin. He immediately bent his head and captured her mouth, holding her trapped against the working machine. Warmth seeped into her from both the metal and the man. She put her arms around his neck, loving the strength of him as he thoroughly explored her mouth.
‘That’s nice, Robyn.’
Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her up until she perched on the front of the machine and fitted himself between her open thighs. Heat pooled in her sex as he angled his hips against hers and rubbed the thick column of his shaft against the inner seam of her jeans. For such a relaxed guy, his intensity about sex always surprised her.
‘I want to be inside you, real bad, honey.’
She stared into his lust-filled eyes. ‘And you have really lousy timing.’
He slipped his hand between them and cupped her sex. ‘Yeah, anyone could walk in on us.’ He held her gaze. ‘And you know what? That just makes me want it more.’
Beneath her the machine churned and trembled, sending erotic vibrations up and down her legs. He unzipped her jeans and slid two fingers under her panties.
‘You’re soaking.’
Robyn fought the temptation to close her eyes. She was the one who faced the street, legs wide open, a man between them. She had to keep an eye on the door even if Dakota didn’t. He started to move his fingers in and out of her, a slow glide coupled with the rub of his thumb over her clit.
She clung to his forearms, her hips lifting into the movement, wanting more, urging him deeper. He watched his hand, his expression intent as she came for him with a sudden quick clench on his fingers.
‘Very nice, honey, but we know you have more, don’t we?’
She dug her nails into his arm. ‘
We
do, but not here. How about we leave the washing and come back for it later?’
His fingers remained embedded inside her as he continued to thumb her clit. ‘But I like this, I like you right here coming for me.’
Robyn opened her eyes wide at him. ‘Dakota, we’re in public!’ God, wouldn’t that look good, pictures of her fornicating in the laundromat with an unknown cowboy. Not that he was unknown of course. She fluttered her eyelashes at him. ‘What happens if some of those fans of yours walked in? What would you do then?’
‘Nice try, honey, but I’m not stopping.’
She moaned as he added a third finger, widening her with every subtle stroke, setting her up for another climax.
A loud cough echoed off the walls and Dakota went still. Robyn tried to pull away from him but he held her trapped against the machine. She turned her head a fraction, tried to isolate the sound, realized it came from the back of the shop and started to pray.
With one swift motion, Dakota put her on the floor behind him. She peeked over his shoulder as a large Latino lady with a name badge that read ‘Maria’ came out of the back room and headed for the first tumble-drier. Without speaking, Maria dumped the contents of the drier into a basket, picked it up and retreated back into her closet.
Dakota grabbed Robyn’s hand and headed for the door. She tried to slow him down, to tell him her jeans were still unzipped. He took a sharp left turn which brought them down the side of the laundromat. Hot air and pieces of multicolored fluff danced in the shadows, pumped out by the enormous fans.
‘What are you doing?’ Robyn asked.
‘I’m not finished yet.’ Dakota shoved his hand back inside her soaking wet panties, lifting her on to her tiptoes. ‘Come for me again.’
He worked her hard, all four fingers pumping into her, his thumb placed firmly over her clit. His kiss was just as possessive, claiming her mouth in the same rhythm as his fingers, making her moan and writhe against him. She came again, cried his name into his mouth, felt his murmured approval on her very breath.
His arms closed around her and held her tight. The thick rod of his shaft pressed hot and urgent against her belly.
‘Touch my cock, honey, do it fast, make me come.’
She unzipped him and wrapped her hand around the thick base of his shaft. Restricted by his jeans, she worked his cock with both hands, shoving his dripping erection through her fingers until he started to shudder and curse and call her name.
His hand covered hers and the thick heat of his come spurted between their interlocked fingers. He lowered his head to her shoulder and let out a long breath. His heart pounded against hers as he held her close.
‘I want you, Robyn. I want inside you.’
She closed her eyes, enjoyed the weight of him slumped over her, the scent of his sweat and come, the yearning in his voice. ‘OK.’
‘Really?’ He lifted his head, stared right into her eyes.
She swallowed hard. ‘Yeah.’
He slowly kissed her forehead and zipped up her jeans. ‘Let’s go and put the washing into the driers and make use of that motel room one last time.’
Chapter Eight
 
Robyn allowed Dakota to march her back to the motel, her hand held firmly within his grasp. As soon as he shut the door to their room he was on her, his mouth locked onto hers, his hands smoothing down to cup her buttocks and press her firmly against his erect cock.
‘God, I want you so bad, honey.’
His murmured words made her tear at the snaps of his shirt, even as he dragged her T-shirt over her head. She struggled with his belt buckle, heard him groan as her fingers fumbled with his zipper. He fell to his knees, pulled her jeans down with her panties and helped her step out of everything along with her sandals.
She gasped as his tongue licked her clit and delved between the moist layers of her sex.
‘Open your legs wide for me, baby, let me taste you.’
Robyn grabbed on to his shoulders as his mouth worked its usual magic, probing, licking, nuzzling, taking her higher with every stroke. His fingers joined in and plunged into the slick wetness he’d created, dueled with his tongue to drive her wild. Robyn sucked in a breath.
‘Oh, God, I’m going to come.’
‘Yeah, do that, honey, all over me, that’s right.’ Dakota crooned the words against her pulsing sex, shoved his tongue deep to experience every sensation right along with her. She was the most responsive woman he’d ever fucked. Her body so quick to come for him again and again that he’d never get enough of her.
He got to his feet, shucked his shirt and then took off her bra. Her nipples were hard and begging for his mouth. With a groan, he bent to his task, taking as much of her breast into his mouth as he could, pressing her nipple against the roof of his mouth as he sucked.
BOOK: Riding the Line
8.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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